Daughter
by caff
Summary: Mary tries to calm her daughter and fix herself. AU/Oneshot


I shouldn't offer to help people, especially family

Cooing, it was always the cooing that woke her up, because it always led to crying. She would wake up, cooing and gurgling, then crying when someone didn't immediately run to her. That was Marshall's doing. He was supposed to be the smart one, the baby person who knew the difference between a wet cry and a lonely cry, but he ran to either in a split second.

That was the difference between them; he took so naturally to being a daddy, where as it took her four weeks to not stiffen up when the baby lay in her arms. Being pregnant had been torture enough, and then there was a little human being depending on her, needing her every second of every day. Three months later she still dreaded the nights she was left alone with her.

She fussed a little, and Mary threw her arm to the other side of the bed where it landed with an almost silent pat on cool unslept-in sheets. Any other night this would have startled Marshall and he'd spring into action, diapers, bottles, lullabies, the whole nine yards. She found it beautiful and infuriating, but only showed relief that she didn't have to step up the plate yet.

"Oh please, just…go back to sleep. See, see here?" Mary wound up the mobile and looked down at the crying baby. "Lookie, Jessie, go back to sleep, okay?"

Jessica only responded by crying louder. But Mary was determined, three months of this was enough and she was finally going to be able to calm down her own daughter. _Daughter_…it made her feel uneasy to even think it, but if Jinx could raise two, fairly normal, children she could certainly make a baby be quiet.

It took her a good ten minutes to find a comfortable position to hold the baby while feeding her, another five to change her diaper as she thrashed, all the while still crying. Screaming actually, to the point where Mary thought she'd go deaf before she ever stopped. This was bad. Mary, who hadn't even cried when Jessica was born, was the closest she'd been to tears since Marshall had gotten shot.

She held the angered baby against her shoulder, still stiff and awkward in her movements, and swayed from side to side. She'd seen Marshall do it a million times and Jessica didn't make a peep, now she was just pissed.

_"If you relax, she'll relax."_ He'd told her, but with the crying Mary found it impossible to think of anything else except how inept she was. How she was going to fuck up this kid for life and end up an old, bitter, depressed hag who was too stupid to close her legs and spare them both the pain.

Mary laid her into the crib once again and slid down to the floor, leaning against it. She felt defeated and she hated it.

"You hate me kid; I get it just…shut up. Marshall is—your dad he's not—he's not here and I don't know what to do for you."

The act itself had been ill-thought out and little talked about. She wanted to tell him to stop, against everything her body was telling her, that it wouldn't end well, but with his hands on her ass and his mouth working at her neck none of her words were coherent. The fire in his eyes burnt into her and for the time he wasn't Marshall, at least no part of Marshall she had ever seen. He grabbed at her and sunk his teeth in, letting every bit of male animal instinct rise from deep in his belly, every bit of him that had ever wanted Mary. It excited her; he was sweaty and musky, his hair falling into his eyes, and the way his skin seemed to melt with hers as they intertwined and thrust at each other.

Afterwards she was almost euphoric, and now, sitting against the crib that held her screaming child who she couldn't connect with if both of their lives depended on it, she thought maybe it hadn't been such a good idea.

The look on his face when she told him, as much as he tried to hide it, pulled at Mary's heart strings. She loved him in ways but more so the things that he did, who he was. And who he was, a man who wasn't going to leave Mary, despite how much she fought against it and despite the choice she made. Another month went by before she made her finale decision and in the end she always knew what she was going to do. Everyone else was surprised, to say the least.

They moved in together, more Marshall's idea than hers, and she was understandably hesitant at first. He slept in the guest room, kept with his own schedule, and stayed out of her way when she had morning sickness; pushing his feeling as far away as they would go so he wouldn't mess it up. Except one night he came home so tired he didn't know up from down and fell asleep in Mary's room. She curled up next to him in her deep slumber as if he were her pillow. The next morning when he woke naturally and alone, without a punch to the head or a pillow softly assaulting him, he considered it a step forward.

The phone lay at her feet and she rested her mouth against her arm, contemplating actually calling him. The crying became white noise but she wanted her to feel better, to sleep, to do anything.

_Call him, no, call him, no I can do this. Just fucking call him! No…I mean…fine_

"Marshall."

"Marshall?"

"Nope, wrong number."

"Marshall I…" Mary felt her throat tightening as the words formed. "What's that thing you do to make her go to sleep?"

"What? You mean feed her, change her, don't begrudge her entire existence?"

"For once can you not break my balls? She's been crying for an hour and I am about to lose my shit. Please just—please help me."

Marshall sat up on his elbow and sighed, taken aback by Mary's sudden vulnerable tone, "Okay, you've fed and changed her right?"

She sighed, leaning her head back against the bars, "Yeah,"

"Now pick her up."

Mary stood and held the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up the red faced little girl.

"Now, you, breathe."

"This is stupid, I—" Mary protested.

"Relax, like I told you. Hold her close to your chest and breathe slowly; when she realizes you're calm, she'll be calm. It's Baby 101."

Mary, reluctantly, did as he said, not believing a word of it. Jessica just hated her and loved Marshall, breathing had nothing to do with it.

"The only thing she understands right now is feeling. You're her mommy; she'll feel what you feel." Marshall repeated softly into the receiver.

She was fed up, "Mommy? Jesus Christ Marshall, how can you be so smart and an incredible jackass at the same time? Having a kid and raising a kid are not the same thing. She's you, okay, through and through and I'm just...here. The inept, pushy, bitch who can't deal with adults, kids, forget babies. You coddle her and love her and blow raspberries on her stomach and she goes nuts and I can't do that!"

She wasn't going to cry, she couldn't, not with Marshall on the phone.

Over the next few minutes of Mary trying to compose herself in the silence over the line she didn't seem to notice that Jessica lowered a few octaves, and before too long she was wide eyed and silent in Mary's arms.

"She…"

"Y'see?"

Mary stayed still and Jessica got used to the different body she was huddled against. Her resemblance to Marshall was something fierce: eyes, nose, cheek bones, everything. A beautiful little female version of Marshall stared up at her for the first time since she was born without breaking into tears.

"Goodnight."

He was patient, ready and willing to help Mary realize that she wasn't as hopeless as she thought she was. Somewhere, in the depths of her soul, she loved them both, and he was set to wait as long as he had to.

Mary gave an almost overreaction of a smile, "G'night."

"So, I think you and I," Mary sat down on the bed, shifted Jessica, and sighed, staring into those crystal blue eyes. "Need to have a heart to heart."


End file.
